


If Wishes Were...

by soft_princess



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Community: maleslashminis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_princess/pseuds/soft_princess
Summary: This, them, has never been about complete truth; they have secrets they must keep in order to function.
Relationships: Lindsey McDonald (AtS)/Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Kudos: 1





	If Wishes Were...

> Traditionnellement, la rose bleue évoque le mystère ou l'atteinte de l'impossible. On croit qu'elle est capable d'apporter la jeunesse à celui qui la détient ou de réaliser ses vœux. Ce symbolisme dérive des significations de la rose dans le langage des fleurs courant à l'époque victorienne.  
>  Source: [Wikipedia](http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rose_bleue)

The box looks innocuous.

Wesley picks it up from his desk and examined it carefully. It is, well, box shaped, perhaps thirty centimetres across, no more than ten centimetres high, and coloured in the boring brown of most boxes.

The most interesting thing about the box itself is, in fact, its lack of a return address. When Wesley opens the box, all he sees is a flower, a rose of a most peculiar shade of blue, and a note underneath it.

_Grande Motel. This afternoon. L._

Wesley has a moment of confusion before he recognizes the handwriting, and smiles.

The Motel is less than a half hour ride from the Hyperion. Wesley's been there before, not very often, but enough to manage the drive without a map. A man greets him at the door with a sour look and a grunt. "Place's full, look elsewhere."

Wesley raises an eyebrow. "I'm meeting someone."

"Who's you--"

"Shut up, Deker, and let him in," Lindsey says, coming up behind the guard.

Wesley nods at him, relieved to see him and yet intrigued; there are no more than three cars in the parking lot, including his, and nobody in the hallway behind them.

"Spell," Lindsey says, pushing Wesley forward into the hallway. "Deker thinks the place's full, but there's only the three of us here. I don't want anyone dropping in." 

Wesley can see a much bigger story behind that short explanation, but doesn't ask further. This, them, has never been about complete truth; they have secrets they must keep in order to function.

Sunlight is streaming through the curtains when Lindsey finally opens the door of a room, warm, blinding sunlight and Wesley sighs. The Hyperion is so dark, he almost never notices the sunlight anymore, hadn't noticed it today until now.

A guitar is propped against a wall, an opened suitcase on the floor, books on the nightstand; small pieces of a life Wesley had never spared a thought to before all this. "How are you holding up?" he can't help but ask.

Lindsey pushes him against the wall and kisses Wesley's neck. "Don't ask me that."

Wesley wants to say that he genuinely cares for the answer, that he wants Lindsey to be okay, to be happy with the decision he made to leave. But Wesley moans instead and leans his head to the side to let Lindsey's mouth trace patterns on his neck.

In the afterglow, with Lindsey panting against his shoulder and his own heart beating fast and hard in his chest, Wesley wishes things could be different, that Lindsey could fight with them instead of always trying to stay a step ahead of those he'd betrayed.

But wishes don't make horses, the saying says, and it's as true here as it has ever been.

Lindsey leaves in the early evening, packs his things quietly while Wesley drowses, not quite asleep. He leaves another blue rose on the nightstand, and another note:

_I'll be back._

Maybe things will be different when he does.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translation of quote** :
> 
> "Traditionally, a blue rose was symbol of mystery or of reaching for the unattainable. Some believe that this flower can bring youth or fulfill dreams for the one possessing it. This symbolism comes from the rose's significance in the language of flowers of the Victorian Era."


End file.
